


Speaking your truth

by starsonyourskin



Category: The Fall (TV 2013)
Genre: Backstory, Coming Out, Crisis of Faith, F/F, Fandom Trumps Hate, Ficlet Collection, Gen, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-01
Updated: 2017-02-01
Packaged: 2018-09-21 10:14:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9543293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starsonyourskin/pseuds/starsonyourskin
Summary: A collection of ficlets about Dani, Stella and Reed, written for Fandom Trumps Hate 2017.The prompt was: Write something in support of freedom, of peace, of diversity, of kindness.The smut is chapter four if you must know! ;)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bethagain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bethagain/gifts).



You are the artist  
And You set me free  
I’m still unfinished  
You’re shaping my heart  
You call every detail  
I’m your work of art 

The gentle piano melody from yesterday’s service still rang in Dani’s ear. She’d hummed the vocal line during her walk to this grand cathedral. She felt a little naughty, coming here, though she knew that a change in denomination was not unfaithfulness to her God, only to her people. Here, she felt literally the awe-some presence of God. The light was streaming through the stained glass, painting dappled spots of white, ochre, purples and reds on the marble of the saints’ statues. She breathed in the damp, slightly mouldy air and made a cross with the holy water near the entrance. She knelt in the pews. The hard floor marble had been eroded, turned smooth by centuries of parishioners lifting their hearts to the divine, down on their knees.

And so she started to pray silently. The pain rose quickly, because she was able to bare everything she kept hidden to other people to the One who knew her best. 

‘Father God, I come before you today with so many questions. You know that I’ve been struggling. Why have you made me this way if you want me to be straight? Who I love is such a deeply intimate part of me, and I cannot change it. I have tried. I have tried so hard. Why did you choose this path for me to walk?’

A tear slid down her cheek. She looked at the eroded marble floor, and then up towards the light in the sky. 

‘I know you, God. I know who you are. I know that you are Love. In the deepest chambers of my heart I hear your whisper that you love me. And if you still love me, the One who made me, and knows me, and is still writing the path before me, then maybe I’m okay. Maybe I’m not an abomination.’

This was revelation. Not a booming thunderous voice in the sky, but the universe’s quiet insistence that she existed just as she was, and was deeply loved, and deeply known. 

It occurred to her that the marble before her was only made smooth by thousands of feet. Thousands of people gone before her. Maybe all she needed to do was to lift her own two feet and keep walking, and then, maybe one day, the marble would be smooth for the people behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song is Bright City's Colour. Partly inspired by this vid: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i_U8T-vY6hU


	2. Chapter 2

Dani had sat them down at the kitchen table. “Are you going to tell us you’re pregnant?” her dad joked, hitting a little too close to home. They’d always steered away from the topic of Dani’s love life, knowing that it was not something she wanted to discuss with them. 

As nervous as she’d felt all day, a lump stuck in her throat, palms sweaty with imagined scenarios, it had all disappeared the moment she decided that now was the time to do it, once and for all. Rip the bandaid off. 

She lifted up a silent arrow prayer. ‘Please God, be with me, and hold me in your presence.’ She tried to distance herself emotionally from her parents, pre-empting their disgust with her, to pretend that it didn’t matter.

“Erm, I’m just going to say it, and then we’re going to go from there. I love you very much, mum and dad.” 

Her brain was screaming at her, just say it. Say it. Dani felt paralysed, and then she tripped a switch and her mouth made the words.

“And I’m gay.”

There. The effort of saying it was nothing in comparison to the hours, days, years, she’d spent agonising over her sexuality. Time slowed down as she watched her parents react.

Mary gasped and thought ‘she is she is she is’, because she had suspected and this was confirmation. The shock and confusion and hurt and fear bubbled up and she started crying. She thought ‘Oh the poor child, she’s bottled this all in and was afraid to tell me.’ And then: ‘Fuck, what’s John going to think?’

Watching her mother react like that, Dani’s worst fears were confirmed. She put her hand over her mouth and tears started streaming down her face. 

Her father seemed emotionless, stunned. “You can’t be,” he said. “There’s no way.”

\--- 

“It’s so stupid. I feel so silly now. Because you have to stand by your child. That’s what family’s for. Thinking back about now, I feel stupid. I made such a fuss. I was so selfish.” 

“No, no, no, daddy. You were just doing the best you could.”

“I didn’t tell you this at the time, but after you came out, that night when we’d all gone to sleep, I woke up around three or four in the morning and I went looking for a tablet. To kill myself.”

“Dad!”

Her father broke down completely, burying his face in his hands, his forehead red from crying.

Dani threw her arms around him.

“Imagine if you’d done that, how stupid that would’ve been. All for a couple of idiots whose opinions we don’t care about. She stroked his arms and tried to say something that would make his regret sting less. “You’re the best dad in the whole fucking world.”

\---

Her dad was waving a giant rainbow coloured flag in the June drizzle. Behind him, a giant float with LGBT switchboard banners were draped over the sides. Pride revelers in rainbow gear, wigs and inappropriate footwear were throwing their hands in the air to the music. Mary touch Dani’s forearm. She gave her a plastic bottle that was clearly not filled with the Coke indicated on the label. 

“Just to get the party started.”

Dani couldn’t believe her deeply religious mother had just handed her some liquor. Mary linked arms with Dani and leant into her.

“You know, I feel blessed that we are having this experience,” Mary said, smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of the dialogue was very much stolen from Riyadh K’s video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KbDCl5pcpz0&t=616s Go watch it. But be warned, it makes me bawl every time.


	3. Chapter 3

Reed put the phone down and stared at the screen after she’d ended the call with Stella. As if looking at her phone was going to make her come back. 

Oh.

It was as if Noah had invited her on their first date. Except it was Stella, and she was meeting her at the Merchant’s in an hour for post-work drinks. A hook had lodged itself into her belly and she felt herself being lifted by it. She revelled in the warm feeling of it, and wanted the current of it to stay in her body unchangingly. The river had run to her and was asking a question. A seductive lilt, an accent foreign and familiar, out to sea. She could lie back and float in the beating sunbeams of the dead sea, and be gently transported to lands unimagined. Or would she go under and come up gasping for air, brine and salt stuck in her nose and throat, her hair a seaweed tangle, eyes stinging? An image of her tippy-toed at the end of a jetty, poised for a dive.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because there's not enough f/f erotica in the world, and being our fabulous queer selves is resistance in the face of Trump.

Reed taps her fingers on her thigh in a steady rhythm. The taxi is taking too long for her liking. She should’ve been at Stella’s five minutes ago, but she’s stuck in traffic. Her thumb hits the lace trim on her stay-ups. She rubs the fabric absent-mindedly, thinking about what it would feel like if it were Stella’s touch. Her muscles clench inside, and when she spreads her thighs, they’re slightly sticky where they meet her underwear. It’s not as if she needs any more encouragement. It’s been five days since she covered Stella’s naked body with hers, lying on top of her, amazed at how well they fit together. Nearly the exact same height, same proportions. Five days is way too long, Reed thinks. It amazes her how quickly she could get aroused with Stella. All it takes is for her gaze to linger on Reed’s lips in public, or to take a step into Reed’s personal space, and that whiny, insistent clench of her centre announced itself, followed by a gush of wetness. Countless pairs of knickers had been ruined by incessant washing. 

She pays the cabbie, hoping that he wouldn’t smell her. She lets herself in, hangs up her leather jacket in the hallway, and walks to the kitchen, where Stella is just pouring them two glasses of wine. 

“Hi. I’ve missed you,” Stella greets Reed with a restrained kiss on her cheek. Reed gently guides back the two proffered wine glasses to the counter by their stems. 

“And have I missed you,” Reed says, her tone of voice husky. Both her hands grab Stella’s waist, her thumbs running circles over her sides. She presses her lips into Stella’s, and lets them roll and nip before her tongue enters Stella’s pretty mouth. She can feel Stella smiling beneath her touch. Their tongues battle it out, each trying to gain the upper hand over the other, and Reed moves to stand on her tiptoes to gain the edge. It doesn’t work. Stella moves her hand to the nape of Reed’s neck and gently pushes her down. This move of dominance, of anticipating Reed’s needs, makes her desire flare white hot, and a small moan escapes her lips into Stella’s mouth. This is what’s she wanted all week, what she thought about as her hand moved down her taut belly towards her soft curls at night, and it’s finally here, it’s finally happening.

Stella breaks the kiss. “I’m going to bet that you’ve been wet before you walked in the door.” 

Reed’s embarrassed, but only a little. That’s what happens when you’ve been playing hard to get with Stella Gibson for the past two months and you finally decide to let the mask slip and let her know exactly how much she feels like integral part of you. 

“You’re right,” Reed says, trying to make it sound sexy as she moves closer towards Stella again, but in Reed’s mind only Stella is ever the true mistress of sexy. Although it seems Stella disagrees, as goosebumps patch her bare arms while Reed’s breath blows hot against her neck. She clings to Reed, Reed’s hands replaced by her folded hands that meet at the small of Reed’s back and pull her close to Stella’s perfume dabbed on her cleavage, their hips meeting and pressing into each other. Reed looks into Stella’s eyes and all she sees is a calm determination, no hesitation or questions. She knows what Reed likes, and how to give it to her.

It’s enough to make Reed’s tummy dance all over inside her midriff. “I want your mouth all over me. It’s all I’ve been thinking about this past week. I’m so turned on I think I might come without your touch.”

A sly smile curls Stella’s lips, a plan forming in her head. “Then show me.”

“What? No. I’ve been waiting all week for you,” Reed says imploringly. She doesn’t want to believe Stella would be so cruel, when she is clearly so needy that wants to roll her hips for a little relief. 

Stella arches a brow, like she does at work, and does her best to stop the raw desire in Reed’s words from drawing her out to Reed and dropping to her knees, taking Reed’s skirt and knickers with her.

Reed understands the game. She needs to make Stella come to her if she wants that orgasm that she's fantasised about all week, the one with her bent over, or held in Stella’s arms while she’s being fucked by two, three fingers, panting sweet nothings into Stella’s ear, occasionally brushing against Stella’s silky hair. She mirrors Stella’s eyebrow and then runs her hand up her thigh. Her leather skirt just about hides the band of lace trim at the end of her stockings, and her black velvet boots end just above the knee. The ribbons of velvet, stocking, lace, and bare thigh should be an enticing sight. She pulls her skirt up her thighs, as if to comply with Stella’s instructions. But Stella hadn’t counted on those stockings. Reed is usually more practical with her wardrobe, but something about the pregnant expectation of tonight’s session made Reed want to open the night with her teeth and have something to look at for Stella.

Stella’s fixed stare lets Reed know that she’s quite appreciative of her sartorial choices. She swallows, hard, and leans back on the counter as to regain her balance.

“This is nice. Having Stella Gibson thrown off kilter by a pair of stockings,” Reed says teasingly. To emphasise her words she unzips her skirt and lets it fall to the ground after pulling it over her hips.

Stella clears her throat, and lets her gaze wash over every inch of Reed. “You’re going to have to do a bit more to throw me off balance,” she says, ever the bluffer. 

Reed pouts, theatrically. She’s never felt more naked than when Stella looks at her like that, and it’s making her nipples hard. She takes the hair tie out of her midnight black hair and lets it graze her shoulders, painting long strokes on the aurous canvas of her shoulders, clavicles, and spine. Her hands sneaks down towards her knickers while Stella is stood watching her slow descent. She doesn’t break eye contact and Stella’s chest flushes. If she wasn’t coming undone a minute ago, she surely is now. Reed’s first touch is overbright, despite the protective layer of fabric, and a shiver travels up her spine. A soft, involuntary moan escapes Reed’s lips, and it’s enough to attract Stella to her.

“Let me help you,” Stella offers, and she takes the two short steps towards Reed. Stella doesn’t bother with Reed’s top or stockings, but pulls down her underwear in one swift move and lets Reed’s wetness coat her while her fingertips dance at the very edge of her folds. Reed squirms. The pleasure Reed feels is so saturated, so rich, and yet so elusive that she grinds down on Stella’s hands to find more of it. “You’re so wet, Reed. Like you’ve just had an orgasm.” Reed is shattered into a thousand tiny fragments, landing on the lunar reflection in the waves during the smallest hours of the night and all rational thought in her head takes flight.

“Stella, don’t tease. I need you inside of me, now.” 

Stella had planned to go down on Reed for a long time, avoiding her clit as long as she could stand it, inserting one finger and feeling her ridges before denying her again, but Reed’s request is so vulnerable, so honest, that she can’t not heed it. Reed’s breathing heavily against her shoulder, her head tipped back, her eyes closed. And so she thumbs over Reed’s rigid nub (Reed gasps) and circles her opening, then slips a finger in, curling it upward towards her womb. 

Soon, that indescribable bliss fills Reed’s mind and she sighs out with a little contented moan. Her pussy starts clenching around Stella’s finger and she rides out a few light contractions before the fucking can start in earnest. Stella feels Reed contracting around her slightly and is amazed at how turned on Reed can be with so little touching. Stella slides another finger in as a reward, and Reed moans’ yes’. Stella eyes Reed’s breasts, still encased in her top and wishes she would have taken it off. With her left hand she brings Reeds fingers up to the hem of her top and lets her pull off her own clothing, while rocking her backwards and forwards against the kitchen counter. Stella knows full well that Reed has never come without a little clitoral stimulation, but thinks that tonight she might be so turned on that she could push her over the frontier. 

“Bend over for me,” Stella whispers against Reed’s jawline, and stops moving her fingers. It takes a few seconds for the haze to lift around Reed and process Stella’s words. She turns around, now flush against Stella’s body, and Stella takes that moment to withdraw her fingers, and Reed feels like she has lost something that belongs to her, like a key missing in her purse.

“Put them back in,” she growls. 

“One second, love,” Stella answers while her fingers graze her nipples through Reed’s bra, before reaching back and snapping the clasp open. It falls down her arms, dangles on her wrists before she lets it drop to the floor, and she stands spread, arse pushed against Stella’s centre, wearing only stockings and boots. Stella kneads and pinches her breasts, but it’s not enough for Reed, because she’s rocking her hips and not making those needy sounds she was making earlier. So Stella gives her what she wants, and cups her pussy, all swollen and slick, before entering her, with three fingers now.

“Jesus, Stella.” Reed shudders underneath her touch, and she feels tight, like she’s being stretched and expanded. Stella strokes a few thrusts. “Harder.” Reed grabs Stella’s wrist tightly and shows her the right rhythm before letting her go as the force of Stella’s fucking reaches her body, first in her lower belly, spreading out to her thighs, her breasts, her back. It blooms like orange wet-in-wet watercolour paint dripped on paper, and she is starlit. Stella feels Reed’s body tighten and slacken, hears her heavy breathing and her desperate little moans and Reed’s pleasure ricochets off her into Stella, who is drunk off this feeling of love and desire. All ambitious plans about making Reed work for it have left her realm of thought and all she wants is for Reed to come so hard she’ll collapse like a crumpled piece of paper on the floor. She gets more intentional about her fucking, starts engaging the pads of her fingers specifically against Reed’s walls, and then moves them separately from each other. Reed chokes out a little whimper, and lets her body go limp, while Stella catches her with her free arm, holding her up around her waist. Reed is on a highwire, and she is daring herself to fall. She is so close, but doesn’t know how to go over the edge. Her thighs are quivering. If she were doing this herself, she would stop now, or slow down, the sensation oversaturated, and she feels tears at the back of her throat. But she wants this. She wants it so badly. “Please. Don’t stop.”

“I love you,” Stella whispers.

Reed’s barely conscious mind flits to how much she loves Stella, and a warmth surges through her, she is drowning in the firmament of Stella’s love, and she teeters off the deep end. Her entire body is trembling, and she clenches so hard on Stella’s fingers that it hurts, and threatens to pull her fingers out of her. She cries out like she’s never done before, a primal sound. Her hips are bucking and thrashing, her legs unsteady, but Stella’s holding her. Reed’s orgasm is washing over her, yet she’s gently floating down to earth now like a propeller seed with each wave that she rides out. Stella’s hand slows and then pulls out, while Reed takes a bit longer to fully recover.

Stella presses her against the counter to hold her, her hands wrapped protectively over Reed’s chest. Reed turns around so she can face her, and Stella holds her tightly. Reed feels held, safe, nurtured, fed in this embrace.

“I love you, too,” she says softly. It’s easier now, her orgasm having softened her, her colours blended in with Stella’s, pressed against her girlfriend. She’s cold now, so nude with Stella fully clothed, and unbuttons Stella’s top button, her eyes asking a question she needn’t have asked.


End file.
